


Wake Us, and We Drown

by ghostwriterofthemachine



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Alternate Universe - Minecraft, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fairy Tale Elements, Fake AH Crew, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minecraft Kings, Multi, Off-screen torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5594248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriterofthemachine/pseuds/ghostwriterofthemachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, in <strike>Los Santos</strike> a kingdom far, far away, something very important was stolen from <strike>the boss the crew</strike> the king and his closest advisers. </p><p> </p><p>  <em>"Geoffrey, Geoffrey, you need to find me, Geoffrey." </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Us, and We Drown

**Author's Note:**

> Title is the final line of TS Elliot's The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock.

_Geoff wakes up to soft warmth and easy contentment. He’s sprawled out on their huge California King that smells faintly of all of them, the sheets pooled around his hips, light filtering in soft and easy through the blinds. He can hear breakfast noises coming from the kitchen and he stretches, eyes still closed, luxuriating in the day. He becomes aware of another noise, much closer. Just as familiar. Geoff’s mouth twists into a smile and he half-opens his eyes, twisting to get a better look._

_Gavin is curled up on the armchair close to the bed, leaning over a laptop and tapping away. His hair is mussed and his lip is pulled between his teeth in concentration and he is still in his pajamas. He is utterly beautiful._

_Gavin apparently feels the eyes on him, because he glances up. When he meets Geoff’s eyes, he smiles in return._

_“Sleeping in, old man?” he teases._

_“Yeah,” mummers Geoff sleepily. “You’re not, though.”_

_“Nope,” sings Gavin, popping the p._

_Goff reaches out his arms towards him and wiggles his fingers. “Let me see what you’re working on.”_

_Gavin seems to hesitate a moment, before leaning over to show Geoff the laptop. Geoff strikes then, looping an arm around the smaller man’s waist and flipping them both over. He pushes the laptop safely under a pillow and wraps himself around Gavin in one smooth motion, pulling the sheets up over them both and tucking the other into his chest. Geoff makes a noise of purring contentment. Gavin squirms._

_“Geoffrey, Geoffrey, what are you doing?”_

_“Too early for work. It’ll wait.” Geoff runs his palms over Gavin’s upper arms. His skin is cool to the touch. They must be cranking the AC._

_“Geoffrey,” Gavin whines, “this is actually really important. Let me up.”_

_“What’s going on that’s more important than filling my daily cuddle quota?”_

_“You got some weird messages on your work phone this morning. I’m trying to figure out where they came from, but all my normal stuff isn’t working. I can’t trace it.”_

_“Huh?” Geoff props himself up a bit on his elbow. “You mean my work phone, work phone?”_

_“No Geoff, the other bloody phone you use to conduct business.” Gavin flips himself so he’s facing Geoff and raises an eyebrow. “Yes, that work phone.”_

_That’s a little worrying. If someone has compromised his work phone, which holds the numbers to everyone from contacts in the LSPD to arms dealers to other gang leaders, their whole operation could go fucking ass over teakettle pretty god-damned quick. Geoff runs his hand through Gavin’s hair, and Gavin noses into the juncture of Geoff’s neck and shoulder._

_“Can I see the messages?” asks Geoff. Gavin hums, comfortable, but reaches over Geoff to the bedside table. He scoops up the smart phone there and shoves into his hands, before burrowing back down into the sheets. Geoff unlocks the phone. It’s already opened to the messages from an unknown number._

_-i_  
_\- i dont know_  
_-[Message was sent without content.]_  
_-i dont know where i am i dont know where i am i dont know where_  
_-[Message was sent without content.]_  
_-i dont_  
_-find me_  
_-findmefindmefindmefindme_  
_-GeoJakkkRyRaRaMichfind  
_ _-please_

_Geoff feels a wave of dread sweep through him. Gavin clutches him closer, molds to fit the curve of Geoff’s body, and Geoff wraps his arm tighter around him. He notices that, despite the sheets and proximity to another body, Gavin is still cool._

_“You can’t trace this?”_

_Gavin groggily shook his head, apparently falling back to sleep. “No. The connection is slippery, I keep losing it.”_

_Geoff nods, distracted, and nuzzles at Gavin’s hair line. The phone vibrates with another message, but Geoff ignores it. The sounds of the rest of his crew in the kitchen suddenly sounded farther away and more…somber, somehow. He presses a soft kiss to Gavin’s hair as his heart begins to race._

_“Gav, buddy,” Geoff says, “Where are you?”_

_Gavin shifts and gives a sleepy hum that’s at odds with how desperately he’s holding on to his partner. “Geoffrey, Geoffrey,” he nearly sing-songs, but when he looks up there are dark rings carved under his eyes._

_“You need to find me, Geoffrey.”_

(.)

The curse had been cast on the kingdom by a wizard who had been hunted down by King Geoffrey's most trusted forces. He had lured children into his hut to perform magical experiments on them. When cornered by the great Michael’s sword, the evil little man had cackled, lifted his arms, and brought down blight on them all.

           

The skies became constantly dark, though no rain fell anywhere. Crops failed. Cows ran dry, and every other farm animal dropped dead. The monsters that roamed the lands became hordes, attacking with far more frequency than any other time in living memory. Even creatures who, most often, were content leave humans alone if properly respected- the Creepers, the Endermen- seemed taken by insatiable bloodlust. The people who weren’t starving were being chased out of their homes and slaughtered.

 

Something needed to be done.

 

King Geoffrey called his court to assemble. They followed the summons to his side, as they always had, because of their love for him, and their love for each other.

 

Jack, Master Healer and Architect, a fixture in the King’s life since they were boys. Ray, the King’s Spymaster, who grew up among peasants and brokered in information. Michael, famed warrior and celebrated hunter, a man who had proved his loyalty and talent time and time again. Gavin, archer and strategist and once just a simple solider under Geoffrey’s command, who held the ear of the King and had for years. And Ryan, the most powerful Mage the land had seen in years.

 

The six gathered .The King, often described as ‘deceptively sleepy-eyed’ by the Bards that wandered and sang throughout the land, now carried an air of heavy, sincere exhaustion around him.  The others didn’t look much better. They had all lost weight, from famine and from stress. It was Michael, perhaps, who looked the worst of all for, on top of everything, he felt it was he who bore the guilt for the blight.

 

“Something has to be done,” the King said, as he scanned the faces of his closest companions. “What can we do?”

 

Jack said, “I have walked among the villages, trying to spread medicine or build defenses against the creatures. But for every one person I help, another three drop into more dire need. Distributing aid the usual way will not help, not this time.”

 

Ray said, “I have spoken to people from every corner of this Kingdom, from all different backgrounds and belief systems. None of them can remember anything like this happening before. Not even the oldest hedge witch can has come up with a solution.”

 

Michael said, “I wish I could fight the curse as if it were an army. I wish I could drag that horrible man back from the grave and force the answers out of him. But I cannot. I am not of much use in this situation, but something must be done.”

 

It was Gavin’s keen eye that picked up how quiet, how distant, Ryan was being. “Perhaps,” Gavin said, “the question isn’t whether or not something can be done, but how far we are willing to go to do it. What oaths and laws we are willing to break.”

 

All eyes in the room slid to Ryan, who stood, tense and uncomfortable under their scrutiny.

 

Ryan said, “There are Creatures in this world of much more powerful magic than that foul wizard. They are made of even deeper darkness, and they are many, and they are great. I know I can summon one. I know,” he raised a hand to halt Ray before he could truly start to speak. “I know the risks, to my own soul and to everything else. I am already tainted. My soul is of no consequence. If our Majesty is willing to risk the rest…” Ryan trailed off.

 

Geoff turned away from his gathered court and walked to the window. He stared out, at the dark world his Kingdom had become. “What risks are we talking about, my Mage?”

 

“The Creature will want something. I can’t say what, but there will be a price.”

 

“But in return, this Creature will cleanse our lands?”

 

“If that is what I command,” Ryan nodded, “than yes. It will.”

 

Geoff shut his eyes for a moment, than turned back to the room. “Then do it, my Mage. By any means necessary. I give you permission to call this dark Creature, if it will save our home.”

 

That night, the moon was high and full and the world was ripe with magic and, as his closest companions slept, the Mage began his spell. He plunged into the Dark Arts, reached passed a veil that should never be broken, and Called.

 

The Creature answered.

 

It slithered around Ryan and purred. “Why, if it isn’t my old playmate,” It said. “The one that ran away. Have you decided that you miss me?”

 

“No,” Ryan stated, as he stood, unmoving. “But I do need your help.”

 

Ryan told the Creature the Kingdom’s plight. The Creature laughed.

 

“So now you want me to vanquish the spell that’s causing this?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The Creature laughed more and laughed louder, the sound like a hundred swords breaking on a hundred shields.

 

“Alright, little playmate. I’ll do as you command. It will cost you, though.”

 

Ryan stayed stony-faced. “I know. I am willing to pay it. Name your price.”

 

The Creature gave a disgusting trill of delight. “Name my price? Those are dangerous words, dear playmate.”

 

The Mage said nothing.

 

“Humm…How about this?” The Creature smiled. “Normally, I’d take something precious from you, like you took something precious from me when you stopped coming to play. But never say I’m not a kind Creature: Instead, I will take something that’s precious to you and each of the people closest to you, so you may split the burden of its loss. How does that sound?”

 

It sounded better than Ryan had hoped for. “We have a deal then, Demon. I agree to your terms.”

 

With those words, the Creature screamed with joy, and a wild wind was kicked up inside the room. Ryan fell over, suddenly and resolutely unconscious.

 

He was woken the next morning by sun shining into his eyes from an open window, for the first time in weeks, and to Jack’s smiling face. He pulled Ryan to his feet and danced him around the room. “You did it!” He explained, beaming. “You did it, my brilliant darling, you did it!”

 

And so, it seemed, he had. The darkness had evaporated from the sky, and messengers were coming in from every corner of the Kingdom: the hoards of monsters were breaking apart. Crops began budding again overnight. The curse seemed to be wiped out. In King Geoffrey’s castle, laughter rang throughout the halls.

 

Until a bloodcurdling scream echoed and drowned it out.

 

Geoff, Jack, Ray, and Ryan, who were together when the screamed sounded, dashed to the source of the awful noise. Ryan felt dread build up in the back of his throat as they rounded the corner, and discovered that it came from Gavin’s chambers. The four of them burst through the door.

 

Michael was pressed to the wall opposite the bed, a look of utter horror frozen onto his face. He stared at the completely empty bed fixedly, as if hypnotized.

 

The covers were yanked back and thrown violently to pool on the ground. And the four-poster was empty, save for a monstrous, demonic mark burnt into the sheets, like a footprint if the foot was a cross between a paw and a hoof.

 

On the wall, painted in something dark and wet, were the words ‘ _Payment Settled._ ’

 

Ryan fell to his knees, his body numb and screaming in pain simultaneously. Oh no. Oh, no, no, please no.

 

After all, the Creature’s voice hisses in Ryan’s mind, what is more precious to all of them then one of their own?

(.)

_The garage is cool and dry-smelling around him. Jack’s fingers, spotted with grease, tinker with the insides of the car’s engine. From inside the house he can hear the others moving around and talking, though he can’t make out words. A body suddenly leans itself up against his back, looping arms around him and pressing a cheek against his shoulder blades. Jack twists around and pulls the figure into a hug._

_“They took you,” he murmurs, head bowing low. “They took you, and we don’t even know where to start looking to get you back.”_

_“Mmh,” says Gavin. “You need to hurry. Please.” He presses closer in the embrace._

_“We’re trying.”_

_“I know.”_

_They’re quiet for a long second in the dim stillness of the garage. Jack runs his hands briskly over Gavin’s back, trying to get some warmth back into him. He can feel every vertebra in his spine. He can feel every rib. Jack’s heart hurts._

_“We need your help.” Jack holds him at arms length and pleads. “You’re the one who understands this shit, the tech and the etiquette or whatever. That’s your job. Please, you need to give us something.”_

_“Not bloody much I can do, Jack.” Gavin smiles wryly. “I’m the one in a cage.”_

_Jack pulls him back into a bear hug. Gavin goes easily, willingly, and leans in like he wants to move there forever. Jack wouldn’t object to it, even though Gavin doesn’t seem to be getting any warmer._

_Jack begins to rock them back and forth, soothing, making comforting noises before softly asking, “Does it hurt?”_

_Gavin curls into himself and shudders. Says nothing, then-_

_“Yes.”_

(.)

Hands grabbed at Ryan’s shoulders, whipped him around, pinned him to the wall. Ryan’s traveling cloak wrapped around him like a dog protecting its master. It had been a week since Gavin had been taken from them, and the Mage stared down into the eyes of one of the people who had once loved him most.

 

“Are you leaving us too?” asked Ray, for once his heart worn on his sleeves and in his voice.

 

Who still loved him most, despite all.

 

Ryan fumbled with his words. “No, I’m-“

 

“It looks like you’re leaving us.” Michael melted out of the shadows. His face had lost the last its softness over the past long, trying weeks. He still looked angry when he looked at Ryan. Angry, but not hateful, which was significantly more than Ryan deserved.

 

Ryan looked down at himself, at the heavy traveling cloak and pack, and released a breath.  “I am leaving,” he said, “but not forever. Not for long. There is…something I need to do.”

 

As the words left his mouth, light flared up in the entrance hall. King Geoffrey had rounded the corner he had been standing behind, Jack on his heels with a torch in hand. He stood, regal in the pooling light, in that moment every bit royalty.

 

King Geoffrey said, “Where do you go, that you have to sneak off at night without a word? What is your mission, and why didn’t you tell us about it?”

 

“I-“ Ryan licked his lips. “I didn’t want to give false hope, if I were to fail.”

 

“False hope for what, Mage?”

 

Ryan turned away from them, half-leaning his head against the wall. Geoffrey strode forward, grasped his shoulder, and turned him back to them. And, when King Geoffrey looked into one in the eyes, lying became near impossible. Ryan shuddered and looked at the ground. When he speaks, it’s hesitantly.

 

“I think I’ve found a way to bring him back. I think I’ve found where the Creature is holding him.”

 

The silence was long, profound and heavy. Ray’s voice hitched as if in a sob, but it was Michael who finally moved. He walked slowly, controlled as a cat on the hunt, until he stood in front of Ryan.

 

“Is this the truth? The real, honest truth, not fools hope, not some word-opiate given to stop-“ his words halted as he tried and failed to stop the tears from welling in his eyes, “to stop it hurting so much?”

 

Ryan flinched, but when he answered his voice was strong. “No. It’s the truth, as far as I know.” He swallowed. “I suppose I might be wrong, but I don’t think I am.”

 

Michael’s hands came up to grip at Ryan’s arms, and he spoke.

 

“Then you don’t take this from me, Mage. I was unable to keep him from being stolen from us, but you will not keep me from trying to rescue him. I will come with you.”

 

“No!” Ryan gripped him back, eyes wide. “It’s too dangerous, and I won’t lose any more of you to my foolishness.” His eyes sought out Geoffrey, expecting to be backed up.

 

Geoffrey looked back at him with a very different expression on his face. “We will all go.”

 

The Mage protested immediately. “No, Sire, your kingdom-“

 

“Will be left in Kovic’s very capable hands,” Geoffrey finished. “Dear Ryan, did you really think we would let you go alone?” And as the words left his lips, Jack and Ray nodded in agreement with their king.

 

The five of them left that night.

(.)

_“You’re missing something, right there.”_

_Ryan startles upright, looking around like a madman and reaching for a gun he isn’t carrying before he sees Gavin. He’s leaning over the monitor of the computer Ryan had to abandon a little while ago out of sheer frustration. In the dark room, the screen lights him up ghostly and pale. Translucent and delicate, like a doll.  He glances to the side at Ryan and his mouth twitches into an almost-smile._

_“Here, look.” He taps the screen in the way he knows Ryan hates. Ryan doesn’t comment on it. “Right there, see? Take a look at that again.”_

_He crosses back over to the computer and sits in the chair. Gavin presses up against his side, light and cat-like, while Ryan scans the code that’s been pointed out._

_“Oh. Yes, I see.”_

_“Good.” Gavin perches on the edge of the desk and crosses his legs. “You know what to do with it?”_

_Ryan’s head falls to the desk with a thump. He exhales in a half-sob._

_“That’s what I though,” Gavin says. He takes Ryan’s hand, and begins to easily play with the fingers. “It’s okay, Rye-Bread.”_

_“It’s not,” he chokes. “It’s really not.”_

_Gavin bends Ryan’s fingers gently into his palm, holds them there, uncurls them again._

_“During then day, they have me tied up with my hands over my head,” Gavin says softly, “just high enough so my feet can’t really touch the ground most of the time. They took my shoes and put broken glass on the floor, so even when I can stand to give my arms a rest, I tear myself to shreds.”_

_“They beat me at first, with anything they could get their hands on. Then they decided they didn’t like the way my voice sounds, I guess. Now they gag me and shove my head in a tub of water, and I wish they would go back to hitting.” He bends Ryan’s index finger easily in, before tugging the whole hand to lay on his cheek. “And the worst thing is that they never ask questions. If they did I wouldn’t answer, obviously, but maybe I would at least feel like I could stop it, if I really wanted to, even though I never would. Maybe it would be easier to remember who I was, if they were asking me questions.”_

_Ryan groans from deep in his throat, pained like a trapped animal. His shoulders start to shake as if he were crying, but no tears fall. Gavin turns his face into the hand on his cheek and presses a kiss there._

_“It’s okay, Ryan. It’s okay.”_

(.)

The five men walked for seven days and seven nights, their Mage leading them. And the place Ryan lead them was a cave, unspeakable in its darkness, in the sense of utter wrongness that seemed to pulse from its depths.

 

They linked hands, so as not to get lost, and entered without hesitation. Ryan conjured a light to lead them by. It barely warded off the cave’s darkness, which seemed almost sentient in its desire to smother them. The air was heavy and cold with moisture. They walked like that, five in a line, for what seemed like a long, long time. But just as all were about to give up the mission as hopeless, the tunnel opened up into a large cavern. On the other side was a door, leading on to more darkness. On one side of it was a small pool of water.

 

“Can you sense anything, Mage?” asked Geoffrey quietly.

 

Ryan shook his head. The group hesitated for a long moment, before stepping into the cavern.

 

As soon as they did, a roar echoed off the walls and a great shape seemed to melt out from the shadows. An inky black dragon now stood before them. With a cry of alarm, all five men reached for their weapons and prepared for a fight. But before they could make another move, a tongue of brilliant purple flame shot out of the dragon’s mouth and trapped them all in a burning circle. Only Jack, who had been closest to the wall and able to duck behind it, was free from the flames.

 

Jack squared his large shoulders and bellowed up to the beast, demanding the release of his companions. The dragon shook its scaly head and smirked.

 

“I will release them if you can put out the flames.” At these words, Ryan raised his arms, preparing to cast a charm to summon water, but the dragon just laughed. “No. The only water that can put out this fire is the water from that spring.” He inclined his neck towards the pool at the corner of the cave.

 

Jack slowly walked towards it. He knelt and peered in. It was a clean, clear pool of what appeared to be perfectly normal water.

 

“How do I move it?” he asked the dragon. The dragon replied by saying that there was a bucket hidden behind some rocks nearby. Jack retrieved it and returned to the side of the pool. He glanced at the dragon, and then slowly dipped and filled the bucket. He drew it from the depths.

 

As soon as it was in the air, the water fell from it as if he had drawn it in a sieve. An examination of the bucket reviled that, indeed, the bottom had several holes in it. The dragon saw his distress and laughed.

 

“Only water from that pool will do, and you’ll need at least that bucket-full. I don’t think you can move that much just by cupping your hands.”

 

Jack pursed his lips. After a moment, he shrugged off his jacket, a fine thing made of leather, and folded it into a sturdy square. He held it to the bottom of the bucket firmly, and dipped the thing again.

 

It held the water.

 

He walked back to where his friends were trapped behind the wall of flame. He upended the bucket and, true to the dragon’s word, with one touch of the water the purple fire vanished. The other four men gathered around Jack, praising him for his innovation.

 

The dragon laughed, and his outline seemed to blur. It vanished, and in its place stood a man, with spectacles and a stub of a nose, who would look much more like a scholar then a dragon if not for the curling black horns that sprouted from his head. Ryan stared at him warily, but he smiled and addressed Jack.

 

“Stand on this,” said the not-dragon, as he stepped aside and revealed a pressure plate, “and the next part of your journey will be open to you. There will be other trials like this one, and one will have to stay back each time, to keep the door ajar.” And with those words, the not-dragon seemed to dissolve into shadows once more.

 

There was no point in arguing with a dragon, not when Gavin could be in their reach. Hasty goodbyes were exchanged, and Jack stood on the pressure plate. A door on the other side of the room swung open, and Ryan, Ray, Michael and Geoffrey continued on.

 

The tunnels began to curve, leading the party in what Michael insisted felt like circles, but Ryan insisted were not. When they next stopped, it was not by a cavern, but by a door. It was not a door like the one that had let them out of the dragon’s cave. This door was plain wood, solid and functional but not meant to trap. When Michael tried the handle, it opened with ease.

 

They entered what seemed to be the workshop of some kind of craftsman. An engineer, or an inventor. Metals and tools were scattered around almost carelessly, but they were worn, as if used often and well. Half-finished weapons and projects sat around, some more malicious-looking than others.

 

It was not a dragon that awaited them this time. The figure that looked up from the sword he was working on had a very human silhouette. It was only when he came into the light that they saw him clearly.

 

The man’s hair was long and tangled, and he too had spectacles balanced on his nose. But his skin was warped, jagged, and nothing of what skin should be at all. His entire body was stained an unnatural, bright red color, veins of it rising craggily from him like ravines in reverse. His eyes were a dull yellow color.

 

The man looked as if he had been merged with redstone.

 

He blinked his unnatural eyes at them. “To pass, you need to answer a question.” His voice had an odd, unnatural echo to it. Almost metallic. “A riddle.”

 

“Then tell it to us.”

 

It was almost as if they could hear the man’s smile creek as it twisted up. Without hesitation, he recited:

 

“The one who makes it sells it. The one who buys it doesn't use it. The one who's using it doesn't know he's using it. What is it?”

 

There was a short stretch of silence, but it was broken when Ray made a noise that was almost a laugh.

 

“The riddle that a guardian to a mighty Creature tells us is one that children tell each other, at the very northern tip of out kingdom.” Ray smiled. “The answer is a coffin.”

 

The redstone man let go of the sword he had been working on, stood and bowed. “Correct,” he said. “No one has ever heard of it before you. Not many people venture that far north.”

 

Ray inclined his head. The redstone man seemed to dissolve into a pile of fine, red powder before them, reviling a pressure plate on the floor behind him. Ray went forward and stood on it, and the next door swung open.

 

Geoffrey, Ryan and Michael continued on.

(.)

_“It’s so dark.”_

_Ray looks away from his DS as Gavin slips onto the couch next to him. Once he’s situated, Ray swings his legs up onto his lap. Gavin wraps a hand around his ankle and holds._

_“It’s easier to see the screen when it’s dark,” says Ray, waving the DS. “Also, it’s nighttime.”_

_Gavin shrugs._

_“Turn on the light, if it bothers you so much.”_

_“I can’t find it,” says Gavin. “I’ve looked, but I can’t find it.”_

_Ray hesitates. Then he reaches over and hooks a hand around Gavin’s arms and pulls him, so he’s laying down on Ray’s chest. Gavin starts to shake._

_“I’ve been there,” Ray says soothingly into his ear. “I know how you feel. They got me too, once. You remember that, right?”_

_Gavin nods into his shirt. “We got you out.”_

_“Yeah, you did. And we’re going to get you out, too.”_

_Gavin is quiet for a bit._

_“I’m really cold.”_

_Ray runs a hand through Gavin’s hair. It feels like dipping his fingers into a cloud._

_“We’ll bring you home,” Ray says.  “I promise, Vav, we’re going to bring you the fuck home.”_

_And Gavin turns dull eyes up to up him and says, “I don’t remember home much, anymore.”_

(.)

The next cavern they enter had a high ceiling and a smell like warm hay. It also appeared to be empty. It was only when the party had advanced several paces into the room that something struck.

 

From the top of the cave, something with bright red feathers and the size of a man attacked them in a vicious divebomb. It let out an inhuman shriek as it did, and the warrior Michael drew his sword.

 

The battle was magnificent, for this was what Michael did best. This was a beast, or at least seemed like a beast, as it was moving so fast he had yet to get a good look at it. But a beast could be fought the way a blight, or the loss of someone precious, could not be. Sword flashed against talons as the two matched each other blow for blow. It was almost as beautiful as a dance.

 

Then Michael struck a lucky blow, and knocked the thing to its back. He growled his triumph and stepped forward, weapon raised and ready to claim his victory. Then he stopped short. For now, he got a good look a the thing he had been fighting. And it wasn’t a bird at all. It had feathers, but it wasn’t a bird.

 

A young woman lay sprawled on the ground before him. All up and down her arms and her legs, feathers the color of flame sprouted. Her hands and feet were scaled and taloned like a bird of prey, and arching up from her back were a pair of huge, bright red wings. The girl had hair to match, and eyes that pierced.

 

But even this form, so different from the monstrous one he expected, was not what stayed Michael’s sword. He had crossed paths with many an odd creature and many a beautiful woman in battle. No, it was something on the bird-woman’s leg that caught his eye, and stayed his blade.

 

Hooked around her ankle was a golden cuff, attached to a long chain that was bolted down in the center of the room. The feathers around it were bent in all the wrong ways. The sight of it made something unpleasant stir in the back of Michael’s throat.

 

Michael approached the woman on the ground, knelt so he was at her eyelevel. She stared back at him, unblinking. He reached his hands out and, with the strength that legends had been written about, he snapped the cuff off of her leg.

 

The bird blinked at him, her wings rising behind her as she did. Then she smiled. The woman reached forward and pulled Michael into a hug, pecked his cheek once. “Thank you,” she said.

 

Then she seemed to simply fade from existence, leaving only a pressure plate and the chain that bound her behind. Michael stared at the place where she was for a long second, fingers pressed to the place where her lips had touched his cheek and an unreadable expression on her face. Then he stood up and stepped onto the pressure plate.

 

“Bring my boy home,” he said, as Geoffrey and Ryan continued on without him.

 

The caves led the final two deeper and deeper into the belly of the Earth. Their path had a definite downward slope, corralling them into the darkness. They entered a forth cavern. This one was smaller than any of the other three, save the redstone man’s workshop. But, unlike the dragon or the bird’s home, this one had a very man-made structure erected in the middle of it.

 

A gallows sat there, more like a monster than even the dragon was. It was a familiar silhouette after all the strangeness they had encountered in these caverns, though not a welcomed one. Especially because there was a person on the gallows, noose looped around his neck and blindfold tied around his eyes, standing on the platform that would drop him to his death.

 

The man was short and sturdily built, his hair cut short like a soldier’s, or a servent’s. As Ryan and Geoffrey entered the room, he turned his head towards them.

 

“I have been sentenced to die,” said the man on the gallows.

 

Geoffrey’s brows furrowed. “By whom?” he asked.

 

“The laws of the land I come from. I have committed crimes, and so I will die. That is how justice works, is it not, my King?”

 

“What were your crimes?”

 

The man rattled them off, one by one. Theft, deception, kidnapping, murder.  “By your laws, I am guilty,” he repeated. “Pull the lever, see justice done.”

 

But Geoff simply continued to stare at him. “Were you tried? Were you found guilty, or do you just admit it?”

 

“I just admit it, my King.”

 

“Is there any evidence against you?”

 

“Just my word, my King.”

 

Geoffrey asked, “Why did you do it?”

 

The man tilted his head. “Why, my King?”

 

“Yes, why. Why did you commit the crimes you say you did?”

 

The man faltered. “I- It was for my own-“

 

“No, I don’t believe it was.” Geoffrey took a step forward, eyes shrewd. “I believe those crimes were committed, but not by you. You are nothing but a scapegoat for your master.”

 

The man on the gallows hesitated. “Are you saying I am innocent, my King?”

 

“In my opinion, yes. You are innocent, for there is no proof of your guilt.”

 

The man’s face split it a grin. “Thank you, my King.” Then the platform underneath him dropped, and he dropped.

 

Geoffrey lurched forward, a denial on his lips, but before the rope went taught the man seemed to blink from existence. The noose hung on its own, empty. The pressure plate sat beneath it. Geoffrey stood on it, leaning away from the offending piece of rope.

 

He offered a grave nod to Ryan. Ryan returned it, and left the room.

(.)

_The stars spread out endlessly above them, dimmed by the smog and light pollution of Los Santos but still as constant as they would be anywhere else. Michael can’t name even one constellation, even though he knows he use to know them._

_Fuck it, he thinks. They’ll make new ones. Ones about kings on quests and mighty warriors or something else awesome._

_Gavin is stretched out next to him, close but not quite touching, his eyes half-lidded. His skin looks grey and his breathing is shallow._

_“We can’t find you anywhere, Gavvy,” Michael says. He turns his hand so his pinky finger locks with Gavin’s. “He’s had you for weeks, and we just.” Anger, frustration, rises. “We can’t find you.”_

_Gavin smiles, and it’s dull and far away and sad. “I know.”_

_Michael wants to cry. He wants to cry and scream and fight all the way up to the stars, grab whoever controls this crazy world by the throat and demand that they give back what doesn’t belong to them right now, or else._

_Gavin has shifted his gaze back up to the Los Santos sky. Though Michael still has their fingers entwined, he isn’t holding on much at all._

_“Days are bad,” he says, addressing both Michael and the universe, “but at night, they take me out of the cell and put me in a different room. It’s an old-fashioned sitting room, with armchairs and a daybed and a fireplace. And He’s in there, waiting for me. Just Him. And He tells me to kneel, and behave.”_

_Michael shuts his eyes. The universe does nothing._

_“And when I don’t, He’s rough and He makes me bleed even more. But sometimes…Sometimes I do what He asks, because I’m just so tired, and then it doesn’t hurt  but that’s even worse. Because He’ gentle and He makes me like it and He tells me that my knees in front of him is where I belong. He says I belong to Him, and that I have all along. He says you all never loved me, and that if I’m good I’ll get to stay with him forever.”_

_Michael moves then, shifts over to lay over Gavin, box him in with his body. He forces eye contact._

_“We love you,” he says. “We love you a lot, we love you so much, and you’re as much his as you are a fucking bird, you hear me?”_

_Gavin smiles hollowly. “I know, boi.” He rests his head on Michael’s collarbone. They are silent. Michael wishes that Gavin would warm up._

_“It almost doesn’t matter, though,” Gavin breaths. “Because no matter what happens, I only bleed more.”_

 (.)

Ryan entered the last room alone.

 

This one was radically different from any of the others he had seen. It was furnished in blood red and black velvet, lit by flickering candles, embellished in gold. It would not have looked out of place in the castle of a fine lord or king, the kind that cared more for his personal comfort and greed than that of his people. It was dripping in that nauseating kind of decadence. In the middle sat a great, wide bed, also covered in expensive fabrics and colored in black and red.

 

Gavin was laid out on it, his skin a sick shade of papery white. His eyes were closed, his breathing so shallow he almost seemed dead. Even his hair seemed to be brittle. He had been changed out of the green tunic and brown breaches he favored and dressed in more black velvet. The color didn’t suit him. And Gavin’s head rested in someone’s lap, for he was not alone on that bed.

 

This person, Ryan also recognized.

 

“Meg,” he said quietly. “It’s been a very long time.”

 

The woman greeted him with a small, sad smile. She was ethereally beautiful, nymph-like, skin porcelain and eyes bright like gems. Her hair was an unearthly shade of violet and hung down her back like a waterfall. She was dressed in the same shade of red as the room, and it suited her as poorly as black suited Gavin. It clashed with her hair.

 

Together, on the rich bed, the two made a beautiful picture, if a macabre one.

 

“Ryan. It certainly has. When you escaped him, you swore you would never look back,” she said.

 

“Well.” Ryan’s eyes fell on Gavin, and he restrained himself from reaching out for him. “Circumstances change.”

 

“Ah, of course.” She smiled down at Gavin, fond and nearly tender, and ran her pale fingers through his hair. “I’ve tried to keep him safe, I swear.”

 

“Tried?”

 

“Well. The Lord of these caverns can be very…hard to persuade, as I’m sure you remember. And he never listened to me as much as he listened to you.” Her smile held a nostalgic kind of sadness. “You were always the favorite.”

 

“I know.” Ryan’s stomach twisted. “That’s why I had to get out. I had to escape, with or without you.”

 

“I know.”

 

The Mage’s eyes scanned wearily around the room. “Where is He, Meg? I was preparing to fight him, not speak to you.”

 

“Ah.” Meg rested her palm on Gavin’s cheek as she spoke. “He’s asleep, dear Ryan.”

 

The Mage stared at her. “No, he can’t be, I awoke him to remove a curse under a month ago, he cannot be-“

 

“A final gift from us to you, Mage. From the Creature’s captives to the one who escaped him.” She looked at him with soft eyes.

 

“Who?” Ryan stuttered, “How-” but then he remembered. The sad eyes of the guardians who they had defeated, one by one. The cuff around the leg around the girl with the wings. “He took others, after me,” he breathed out, horrified.

 

“None he liked as much as you, but yes.” Meg continued to run her fingers through Gavin’s hair. “Together, we have put him to sleep. Not before he got his hands on your boy several times, unfortunately. It took your party entering his lands for him to be distracted enough for us to strike.”

 

“But,” the Mage hesitated. “He will wake, eventually. He will wake, and he will be enraged.”

 

“Probably,” Meg said as she inclined her head. “But we thought that at lease one of us should be free of him.”

 

Ryan was speechless, and Meg once again smiled. “Now, come. Take your boy and go.”

 

Slowly, Ryan advanced towards the bed. He reached for Gavin, then paused. “Come with me, this time. All of you, all of His playmates. You don’t need to stay here and face His wrath for your actions. Come with me, be free.”

 

“Noble as always, Mage, but I’m afraid that’s impossible. This place has changed us all too much. We’ve been here too long.” She looked up at him and now, so close to her, he could see that her eyes no longer had pupils. It was not as dramatic as being a dragon, or being half redstone, or having feathers, but a physical manifestation all the same. “We cannot leave.”

 

Ryan’s eyes burned. “I’m sorry.”

 

“There is nothing to forgive,” said Meg kindly. “Now, take this one and go, quickly. I do not know how much longer he will sleep.” He eyes fall back on Gavin. “And take good care of him, all of you. He will need your support. The Creature did quite a number on him.”

 

“Of course,” Ryan said, nothing but truth in his voice. Then he stooped over and pulled Gavin into his arms.

(.)

_Gavin wakes up to soft warmth and easy contentment. In fact, he’s warmer than he’s ever been in his life, maybe, and he’s being touched everywhere._

_He is curled up into Geoff’s chest. On Geoff’s other side is Jack, who is reaching over the older man with a hand that brushes Gavin’s ribcage. Michael and Ryan take a similar formation at his back. Ray is further down the bed, his head pillowed on Gavin’s thigh._

_Gavin inhales, and he finds he can finally breathe. The motion of his chest wakes one of his companions._

_“You’re back,” says Geoff with a dopey, blinding grin. “Oh, God, fuck, thank fuck, you’re back.” He pulls Gavin closer to him, laughs into the air they both breathe, rubs their noses together._

_Michael makes a noise of protest as Gavin is pulled away from him, and he and Ryan simultaneously shift to press closer. Ray feels like an anchor, keeping him from getting swept away in a tidal wave of unfortunate memories and the aftertaste of terror._

_Gavin shuts his eyes and revels in the feeling of not being cold. “Yeah. I am.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Things I've learned from writing this: Writing in a fairy tale style is hard and not a thing I love doing.


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